A SEAL's Secret Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Quack, quack! Ducky kiss you!”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Lucky for Ellie’s heart, kissing a bath toy had zero effect on her pulse. “But seriously, you pull a stunt like telling Daddy to kiss me again and I’m grounding you from all your stuffed animals for a week.”

  Pia giggle-snorted. “Ducky funny!”

  Ellie finally got her daughter clean and dry and snuggled into her crib. Unfortunately, she’d accomplished all of that by nine, which meant she had an awful lot of Valentine’s Day left to fill.

  Had she not flipped over an accidental kiss that was really no big deal, she might still be with Deacon, sharing stories in front of his fire. Instead, she’d had to act like a spooked teen. It had just been a kiss. So why could she swear her lips still tingled?

  * * *

  “I CAN’T THANK YOU ENOUGH for watching Pia on such short notice.” Two weeks after the infamous Valentine’s Day kiss they had so far successfully avoided discussing, Ellie stood next to Deacon outside of Friends Helping Friends. The weather was once again pleasant, and while Ellie had furthered her volunteer training, Deacon had played with Pia at nearby Foster Park. He held her on his shoulders now, jiggling her sneakered feet.

  “My pleasure.”

  “How about I return the favor by fixing us some supper?” Trying to be cool, Ellie tied Pia’s left sneaker, pretending it didn’t matter how he answered. Her proximity to Deacon put her body on full alert. Being close enough to catch the clean scent of his aftershave tightened her stomach.

  “Thanks,” he said. “But it’s been a long day and I have a half-dozen tech specs to read through.” He waved a hand toward his car. “I should get going.”

  Was he oblivious to the awkward undertones between them, or did he just not care?

  “Car ride! Car ride!” Pia kicked his collarbone.

  Wincing, Deacon carried their daughter to Ellie’s station wagon. “Sorry, sweetie, but Daddy has homework. Promise, though, we’ll have a fun ride real soon.”

  Ellie had had enough. “We ever going to talk about it?”

  “What?” Deacon developed a sudden fascination with Pia’s safety seat.

  “Don’t make me get into specifics. I’m talking about what happened on Valentine’s Day. Though it was an accident, I…” Where did she start? Not so long ago, she’d have sworn on her life that any attraction she’d felt for Deacon was long gone. But that one simple kiss had led her down a dangerous path she wanted nothing to do with, yet had been helpless to deny.

  “Stop,” he scolded, his gaze darting about as if he was checking to see if she’d been overheard. “This is hardly the time or place.”

  “Then when?” Head bowed, Ellie rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefingers. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been more frustrated. The man made her crazy.

  “Leave it alone, Ell.” Deacon had hoped that kiss was long behind them. Like it is for you? Was that why he replayed it in his mind a dozen times a day?

  She snapped, “You’re seriously pissing me off.”

  Faking shock, Deacon gasped, “Language.”

  “I so want to hit you.”

  I so want to kiss you.

  Lord help him, but she was even sexier all fired up.

  Ellie closed Pia’s door. “Honestly, Deacon, I don’t see why you have to make such a big deal out of this. It was a kiss. It wasn’t planned, but just happened. And—”

  He framed her dear face with his hands and kissed her again. Only this time, there was nothing accidental about it. He kissed her thoroughly and completely, and when he was done, he was incapable of anything but wanting her more. “Sorry,” he murmured.

  Touching her lips, she just stood there gaping.

  “What? Want to dissect that one, too?”

  “Beast.” She slugged his shoulder, only to clasp her hand to her chest. “Ouch.”

  He took her wounded hand, kissing it better, all the while never breaking eye contact.

  “You’re horrible,” she whispered.

  “Never claimed to be anything else.”

  * * *

  “HE DIDN’T?” The next morning at the boutique, Ada was the one folding double time. “And you liked that kiss, too, didn’t you?”

  Heat scorched Ellie’s cheeks.

  “Come on, just admit it. It’s okay.”

  “But is it?” Counting out the cash drawer to open the register, Ellie said, “On the one hand, that kiss was divine. On the other, it was like tossing open Pandora’s box—and we both know how much luck I’ve had with women named Pandora these days.”

  Ada rolled her eyes. “That girl was trouble from day one. Don’t let her problems shadow you.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Pushing the register’s drawer shut, Ellie turned introspective. “Looking back on it, when Deacon proposed at Christmas, I should’ve stuck by him—for Pia’s sake.”

  “Ell, it’s all right for you to enjoy your life. Not gonna lie, Deacon’s a fine-looking man. I can’t even imagine how good kissing him and more must be. So why are you denying the inevitable?”

  “How is anything between us a foregone conclusion?” Outside, a cold rain fell. It seemed lately that the weather was as fickle as whatever she and Deacon shared.

  “Easy.” Having finished tidying T-shirts, Ada moved on to shoe racks. “Because you’ve got the hots for him, and no matter what he says, I’m pretty sure he has them for you, too.”

  “And? What does it matter? He’s stuck on believing his being with me is betraying Tom’s memory. And what if it is? What if right now Tom is looking down on me? Shaking his head in shame?”

  “Girl, please…” Ada marched to the front door, inserting her key in the lock. “I said it before and I’ll say it again, you are a full-fledged mess. For Pia’s sake—for your own—put us all out of our misery and ask that SEAL to marry you.”

  * * *

  LONG AFTER PUTTING PIA to bed that night, Ellie struggled to figure out where she and Deacon stood. What was wrong with her? How had one accidental touch of his lips to hers launched such a craving for more?

  Not that she was a psychiatrist, but she guessed her attraction for Deacon stemmed not only from the memory of their one shared night, but to his having been Tom’s friend. She was only looking to the familiar to fill the emptiness Tom’s absence created, right?

  Wrong. That discounted the fact that the more she was around Deacon, the more she truly enjoyed his company. Whether tossing rocks in a quarry or sharing a bonfire, they always had a good time. He was great for Pia, and as much as Ellie hated to admit it, he’d been right to expose her secret to Helen and John. Maybe he hadn’t done it by her preferred method, but like ripping off a bandage, the pain had been short-lived.

  She tried calling him, but got voice mail.

  An hour later, she tried again.

  Two days after that, Ellie lost count of how many times she’d tried getting in touch with Deacon. Pia had asked about him so much that now Ellie was worried. He had to have been called out on a mission. It wasn’t like him to disappoint their daughter.

  Standing at the kitchen sink, mindlessly scrubbing Pia’s plastic cow-patterned cereal bowl, Ellie refused giving in to tears or fear. When Deacon safely returned—and he would—things between them had to change. Once and for all, she had to know where they stood.

  * * *

  DEACON HAD LAIN submerged in six inches of brackish water, covered in reeds, his gaze never leaving
his M82A1 sniper rifle’s sight, for twenty-six hours. Until the target left his suspected hideout, here Deacon would stay—no matter how long it took. Garrett was on his left, Tristan on his right. With no clue as to when they might be called on by their superior officer to deliver a trio of kill shots, talk was on an as-needed basis. Meaning Deacon had had far too much time on his hands for mulling over problems back home.

  He’d wanted to let Ellie know he was leaving town, but this mission had come about too fast.

  Once again, he found himself in the unwanted position of dwelling in the past. Wondering what Tom would want in regard to his little family.

  Ever occur to you Tom was your family?

  True. The day he’d met Tom in BUD/S had been the day Deacon abandoned the screwup persona he’d been cultivating in Texas, to dare hope for something more. In the SEALs, he’d found honor and excitement and an odd sense of stability in spite of scheduling chaos. Lately, with Ellie and Pia, he’d found the two of them only enhancing his already full life. What had happened on their recent trip already seemed a million miles away.

  As for that kiss?

  Considering how often the memory came to his mind, might as well have happened ten minutes ago.

  * * *

  EASTER CAME AND WENT.

  Fourth of July.

  Ellie had lost count of the number of times she’d tried calling or emailing Deacon. Through the wives of men on his team, she’d learned what she’d already deduced. He was on an extended deployment in an unknown location for an unknown period of time. Blah, blah, blah.

  At Helen’s annual Labor Day picnic at their beach home, Ellie hung back from the crowd, nursing a watermelon martini in the shade of a big umbrella.

  Almost three, Pia ran wild on the beach, never more than a few feet from her doting grandmother.

  Staring out at sea, Ellie wondered of Deacon, Do you spend as much time thinking about me as I do you?

  * * *

  DEACON’S TEAM HAD BEEN in transit for the last three days. Three days during which he’d found himself afraid of getting home. As much as he wanted to see Pia, he wasn’t sure where things stood with Ellie.

  Back on base, he sat through a day’s debriefing and then was finally free. He rode his Harley along the shore until dark, loving the speed, the freedom, the briny scent of sea not laced with gunfire sulfur or the coppery tinge of blood on his tongue.

  Pia’s third birthday was only a week away and he wanted to be back in her life, but first he had to get himself mentally together. The mission had been a bitch. They’d lost a man and sometime in the next week there would be a funeral.

  Coming on the heels of the anniversary of Tom’s death, it was all a little much. More than anything, he wanted to talk it over with Ellie. Even worse, he wanted her to hold him. Tell him everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t do that, could he?

  At his apartment, he showered, and finally plugged in the charger on his phone. There were thirty-eight messages. Five from his mom. The rest from Ellie. Begging him to call.

  As much as Deacon wanted to hear her voice, he turned out the lights in his room, crashed on his comfortable bed and fell asleep to the sounds of Garrett and Tristan playing with virtual guns instead of the real deal.

  * * *

  “I, AH…” Ellie shifted the still-warm Pyrex lasagna pan from one hand to the other. Garrett filled the apartment’s open door. “Heard through the grapevine you guys were back. Thought you might be hungry.” Nodding toward her car, she added, “I’ve got salad and garlic bread, too. Been a while since I’ve hung out with grown-ups, so Helen’s got Pia for the night.”

  “Thanks for this…” Garrett took the pan from her, setting it on the entry table. “But you know he doesn’t want to see you.”

  Her throat instantly tight, her mouth dry, Ellie nodded. “I figured as much, but Deacon can’t avoid me forever, you know? I don’t even know why he’s acting this way.”

  Garrett shrugged. “Beats me.”

  “You honestly don’t have a clue what’s going through his head?”

  “Sorry.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “All I know is my boy Deacon’s hurting. Don’t take this wrong, but I’m pretty sure you’re the cause. He wants you and it’s eating him up inside.”

  “W-wow.” Garrett’s statement hurt. “I’m just going to grab the rest of the food and then—”

  “Stay…” Deacon emerged from the hall.

  “Really,” Garrett assured him, “I’ve got this.”

  “Thanks,” Deacon said in an exhausted tone, “but it’s past time for me to man up.”

  “Whatever.” Garrett took the lasagna to the kitchen, grabbed a fork, then headed for his room, shouting over his shoulder, “Thanks for the grub.”

  “You look good,” Ellie said to Deacon, not even sure why. He did. Oh, how he did. Big and tall, his skin ruddy from too much sun. His hair had grown out, as had his stubble, and the tank tee he wore showcased his muscles to an alarming degree. Last thing she wanted was to admit her attraction to him. It was proving hard enough for them to be friends. They would never be capable of sustaining more.

  “Thanks.” Glancing around her to the car, he asked, “Where’s the munchkin? I’ve been meaning to get over to see her, but…”

  “Listen…” A breeze caught Ellie’s hair, curtaining her face.

  On autopilot, he swept it from her cheeks, tucking it behind her ears.

  “I’m sorry, Deacon. So sorry for whatever I did.”

  “You didn’t do a thing. I’ve been a stubborn fool, trying to make sense out of what’s happening between us, when there’s no way—no need—to label it.” He pulled her into a hug that felt more as if he was holding on for dear life.

  And then he was crying. Not like she did, loudly and not caring who heard, but in heartbreaking choked sobs, into the crook of her neck. The SEAL community was tight-knit, and she knew they’d lost another man. It happened. All involved were adults and it wasn’t as if the players didn’t know war was a dangerous game. Two years ago it’d been her husband who’d died.

  Now, another woman’s husband.

  Not that Ellie wasn’t patriotic, but after a while it all seemed senseless. Mandy and Neil had three little boys. No matter how many times Tom had tried to explain, Ellie hadn’t understood why being a SEAL had been worth more to him—to all the men on their team and others—than their wives or children.

  “Hell,” Deacon finally said, wiping his nose with his forearm and his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I wasn’t even with Neil when he went down. But it brought it all back, you know? Tom. Finding out about Pia. Everything. And…”

  “I know.” Now she was holding on to him. In this crazy world where it seemed everyone they cared for could be gone at any second, at this moment they had each other, and that’s all that mattered. All of their other issues faded away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Look at Daddy, peanut!” Deacon made a goofy face for Pia, trying to lure a grin out of her for the camera. Ellie had planned a birthday party with cake and a Hello Kitty piñata, but the poor kid had come down with flu and spent her big day in bed. Just as well. The steady downpour would’ve made for a miserable houseful of sugar-hyped kids. Was it wrong that aside from Pia being sick, he was glad for the way things had turned out? He needed this day alone with the two of them. He’d been gone for so long, he craved time to catch up. “Look what I found for you.”

  The frog he
’d brought her was not only age appropriate, but he had an art kit tied to the big guy’s neck that she’d also be able to safely use.

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie.” Perched on the edge of her bed, he set the frog on the floor, comforting her by smoothing the hair from her fevered brow. “Want more to drink?”

  She shook her head.

  Seeing her sick like this would have hurt him anytime, but it was especially sad on a day she was supposed to be having fun. “I promise, as soon as you feel better, we’ll do something amazing.”

  His little girl nodded while drifting off to sleep.

  “She missed you.” Ellie stepped up behind him, close enough for him to feel her heat. He’d hoped being apart from her would’ve squelched this attraction. He’d been wrong. What about you? Did you miss me?

  “I missed her, too.” He rose from the bed as gently as possible as to not wake her. In the kitchen, palms braced on the counter, he said, “We spent days in a village that had a lot of kids. Every time I saw one of them struggling for their next meal, it hurt. And I thanked God Pia was safe with you.”

  Transferring Pia’s favorite oatmeal cookies from a platter to plastic bags, Ellie said, “I wish you had called.”

  “Sorry. We were in deep cover in the middle of nowhere. Some days I was afraid it would never end.”

  Outside, lightning cracked.

  Thunder rumbled, loud enough to shake the small house.

  Deacon wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

  “Where is this going?”

  “Wish I knew.”

  He asked, “Where do you want it to go?”

  The look on Ellie’s face said more than words ever could. “Deacon, I want us to explore what you started on Christmas. I face the same guilt you do when it comes to Tom’s memory, but when you were gone, I realized that particular pain is nothing compared to the hurt of missing you when you’re away.”